His Pretend Wife. Lisette Belisle

too many times to trust easily, and Abigail was no exception to his rule. However, faced with no alternative, he had to make do with her.

      “My leg’s pinned under the metal bar. I can’t move it, I can’t feel it anymore.” His eyes trapped hers. “It’s probably pretty mangled.” His voice dropped a notch as he struggled for words. “Don’t let them take it off.”

      “Jack, no—” Abby paled, her eyes wide and shocked. “You can’t know if it’s that bad.”

      “I know,” he said, grimly reminded of that terrifying moment. He’d felt the metal tear through flesh and bone—a white-hot pain. “Promise?”

      Silently, she nodded.

      He shivered. “It’s so damned cold.”

      To Jack’s surprise, Abby removed her long wool coat, then draped it across his shoulders.

      “What about you?” he asked, wary of being on the receiving end of her kindness. There was always a price.

      “This is fine. I’m wearing a thick sweater.” She placed her gloved hand on top of his head, as if to keep the heat in his body.

      Like a slow tide, he felt some of her warmth seep into him. Afraid to rely on that one small charitable act, he closed his eyes, shutting her out.

      “Jack!” Aware of the added risk of hypothermia, Abby panicked. “You can’t go to sleep. Drew’s organizing a crew to come and lift this thing.” She kept talking, saying anything that came to mind to keep him awake. “Seth put in a call to get an emergency evacuation helicopter to fly up here and airlift you to a hospital.”

      “Where?” he murmured after a long moment.

      “A downstate facility where they have experience in dealing with injuries like yours.” When he said nothing, she leaned closer. “Jack, do you have family, anyone I can call?”

      He opened his eyes, shocking her with a vivid blue stare. She could see intense pain in the depths. He looked so vulnerable. “There’s no one.”

      “There must be someone,” she said desperately.

      His eyes flickered over her face. “There was just Gran and me. And she’s gone.”

      “I’m sorry.”

      His eyes narrowed. “Why?”

      She sighed. “I don’t know. I just am.” Everyone should have someone. She didn’t voice the words.

      Help finally arrived—the sheriff and some loggers and a local ambulance manned by trained volunteers. Abby stepped aside to give them room. After a quick evaluation, they placed an oxygen mask over Jack’s face.

      Abby felt helpless while a crew of men worked to free Jack. Through it all, the sheriff clipped out instructions, creating order out of chaos. Strong and reliable, Seth was in his element in any minor or major emergency. Abby knew she’d ceased to exist for him in that moment.

      It was nothing new.

      Duty always came first with Seth—a noble trait, but Abby wasn’t sure she could settle for his steady, stable but unexciting courtship. Would their marriage be like that? Seth charging off—a knight in shining armor to enforce the law and rescue anyone who needed him—while she waited for him to remember she existed? Was it selfish to want more attention, more devotion? More passion?

      At length, the dim overhead clatter of the rescue helicopter grew closer until the roar was upon them. A blinding white light beamed down, piercing the night and illuminating the accident scene.

      Abby glanced up, shielding her eyes with her hand.

      The helicopter dipped low, hovering. An amplified voice called down, “We’re going to land in a field nearby. That’s as close as we can get. Hang on. We’ll be right there.”

      It seemed to take forever but was actually less than fifteen minutes before the medical rescue team reached Jack.

      Mindless of the cold, Abby helped them wrap Jack in warm blankets. When a medic cut at the denim fabric encasing his leg, she caught a brief glimpse of the injury to his upper thigh. Swallowing hard as the bile rose in her throat, she averted her gaze from the sight of torn flesh and bone. Nevertheless, even with her inexperienced eye, Abby had seen enough. Jack hadn’t exaggerated the damage to his leg. He had every reason to worry about losing it.

      Horrified by the realization, Abby didn’t notice her brother had come to stand by her side until Drew handed her the coat she’d loaned Jack earlier.

      “You look frozen,” Drew said.

      Dressed in a thick wool sweater and slacks, Abby didn’t feel the cold. Nevertheless, she slipped her arms into the sleeves of her gray coat. The quilted silk lining felt warm from Jack’s body heat.

      “Thanks,” she whispered, her lips trembling.

      Drew gazed at her with concern as he asked, “You okay?” Sometimes she felt he understood her better than she did herself.

      Abby laughed shakily, wondering if she was losing her mind. “Jack’s the one with the problem.”

      He had looked so helpless—at the mercy of fate. From what she knew of Jack’s troubled past, life had dealt him more than one blow. Would he survive this latest one?

      Drew tried to bolster her. “He’s in rough shape, but it could be worse. He may not realize it right now, but he owes you his life.”

      “I didn’t do anything.” Abby refused to accept any responsibility for Jack’s life.

      That might open up a set of emotions she’d tried to deny since the first day she met him. From that day on, she’d been bombarded by feelings that threatened to disrupt her ordinary, orderly life. But wasn’t change the reason she’d moved back to Henderson? Feeling restless and generally dissatisfied with her life, she’d hoped Seth was the answer.

      Seth was safe.

      Jack was the unknown.

      “You sent out the alarm,” Drew pointed out, a question in his eyes when her silence lengthened. “No one else knew Jack was missing.”

      She had known. In some secret part of her, Abby was aware of Jack’s every move. She knew when he arrived at work and when he left—to the minute. She dreaded and craved each new encounter. God! How had she let herself get drawn in by his brooding good looks and the masculine taunt in his bitter blue eyes? Today, she’d glimpsed a flash of vulnerability in Jack Slade—something she’d never expected to see beneath the tough exterior.

      Abby wasn’t sure how much time had elapsed before a medic gave the order, “Okay, let’s get him out of here.”

      A new urgency gripped her.

      The rescue squad had set up flares to light the way back down; the mountain looked on fire. The paramedics bundled Jack onto a stretcher. Since the helicopter had landed in the nearby field, a couple of men had to carry him down the steep mountain path, a slow tedious process.

      Following in their wake, Abby felt Jack getting further away from her, breaking that small but very real connection she’d felt earlier when they were alone and he’d asked directly for her help. Then the others had arrived.

      He didn’t need her.

      Falling back, she breathed easier. Someone else would look after Jack Slade. Not Abby. He was terribly hurt, perhaps critically, but there was nothing she could do for him. Thank goodness, there were professionals on hand who knew how to deal with his life-threatening trauma.

      Despite all the rationalizing, she wanted to cry when the men loaded the stretcher bearing Jack onto the helicopter feet first. They’d wrapped him in a blanket and splinted his left arm. No one had dared touch his left leg, except to gently wrap the brutally torn flesh in sterile gauze.

      As if pulled by an invisible thread, Abby took a step. “Someone